


I'll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes

by random_firework



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2016 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Pie, Pre-Series, Sam Leaves for Stanford, Sharing Clothes, Teen Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7941679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/random_firework/pseuds/random_firework
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you ask Dean, he’ll tell you that the first thing that crossed his mind when he woke up on Sunday, August 26th 2001, was that it was a good day. And it was. Until it wasn't anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Supernatural Kink Bingo. Square filled: Clothes Sharing.
> 
> The title says it all. It comes from the song Last Kiss by Taylor Swift and if you want my opinion, if you need a song that talks about Sam leaving for Stanford with Dean's POV that's the one... So yeah, it was supposed to be a cute prompt but you know me, I can't resist an angst opportunity. Last warning: this is ANGSTY. I cried writing it, like a lot (I know, I cry all the time but that's not the point).

Dean had never told Sam, but one of the things he loved the most in their relationship was their clothes sharing. Sam had always worn Dean’s hand-me-down, but at 18 and 22, they could wear the same shirts. It wasn’t surprising for Dean to come back from a hunt to find his little brother asleep in a Metallica tee, nor was it a big deal for Sam to hand his brother one of his hoodies whenever he was sick. Other days, when neither of them was ill or out in the wild risking their life, they simply needed to feel the other on their body, wearing each other’s clothes like a private message about the love they couldn’t claim out loud.

 

Sunday, August 26th 2001 was one of these days. If you ask Dean, he’ll tell you that the first thing that crossed his mind when he woke up was that it was a good day. And it was. When he opened his eyes, the sun was already warm and high in the sky. It gave everything in the room a brightness that Dean didn’t notice, as his eyes were automatically drawn to Sam, who was watching him from a chair near the window. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Dean blinked and stretched lazily. It would be a quiet morning, one of which they had rarely. He had started to appreciate the house they currently lived in. Yes, it was miles away from the nearest town, but the forest around isolated them from the rest of the world. It was peaceful. Sam didn’t have to go to school, and John would come back from his hunt only in a few hours. A few hours during which he could enjoy his little brother a little more.

“Come here,” he murmured, his mind still a little asleep.

“You want some coffee?”

“Nope. Just want you.”

Sam rolled his eyes but complied and stood next to the bed. Dean grabbed his waist to pull him on top of him.

“It was good last night.” They never talked about it the morning after, but it had been so new, so _tender_ , that Dean wanted to point it out. Maybe it was a little cheesy, but cheesy was okay when it came to his little brother.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sam smiled. It was a real smile that was too rare on his lips. Dean thought he should say more, to keep this grin on his brother’s face or to make it bigger, even. He wanted to tell him he loved him and that he was beautiful. With the sun in his hair and his flushed cheeks, all dimples and soft eyes, he was more beautiful than ever. But he didn’t say it. They had all the time in the world, after all. Tonight, he would ask John if he and Sam could go on hunts together, on their own. He hadn’t talked about it to his brother, he wanted it to be a surprise. He knew Sam was as frustrated as him to have to hide from their Dad. Soon, everything would be better.

Instead of saying all these things, he pulled Sam’s face closer and brought their lips together. Dean would never forget the particular taste of Sam’s lips this morning. Velvety sweet as always, a little salty too. He let his hands wander on Sam’s back and smiled. The t-shirt he was wearing was a plain blue one, seemingly common, but the fabric was familiar under his fingers, just like his little brother’s skin. 

“It’s so sexy when you wear my clothes, Sammy.” It was. It was also more than that, especially when it came to _this_ shirt. But he couldn’t say it, could he? So Sam said it for him.

“I’m yours, Dean, always.” 

 

When he got out of the shower, Sam was waiting for him in the small kitchen, hands behind his back. He quickly tilted his head towards the floor but Dean had the time to see him eyeing him from top to bottom. 

“Got a surprise for me baby boy?”

Without a word, Sam handed him a white square box that Dean took with perplexity.

“Dude, awesome!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw the two perfectly red slices of pie. “Thanks Sammy.”

“I wanted to bake you one myself but since this house is worse than a ruin…”

“You wanted to bake a pie? You?”

Sam shrugged.

That’s when Dean should have done the math. Because Sam did not cook. Well, pastas and grilled cheese were okay but it wasn’t like him to even think about baking for an hour. But right now he looked so pretty and felt so close to Dean that it didn’t even cross his mind that something could be wrong. 

 

Anyone walking in would have seen two brothers eating together, Dean at the table and Sam up on the counter. What they wouldn’t know, though, was that Sam was wearing the t-shirt his brother wore when he popped his cherry two years ago. Dean chuckled. The first times had been awkward, full of _we shouldn’t_ and _we won’t do it again_ , but now it was familiar, normal in their own fucked-up way.

He got up to stand between his brother’s legs and stroked them fondly. 

“Wish we had more time before Dad’s coming back…”

“Yeah, me too…” Sam answered, taking Dean’s hands in his. 

They were about to share a kiss when they heard the Impala parking in front of the house. With a sigh, they let their foreheads rest against each other’s and their noses rub together. 

“We should…” Sam murmured.

“Yeah…yeah.”

Sam jumped off the counter to gather the dishes and Dean thought he saw him wipe a tear away just as John entered the house.

 

Sam left for Stanford that evening. When the door snapped shut, Dean felt suddenly drained. His throat was sore from the sobs and the pleas and he was shivering. It was all too much. He let himself fall on the wooden stairs and stayed there, unable to process. In fact, he didn’t process until, minutes – or hours, who even knew – later, John got out of the kitchen and asked: “Are you wearing Sam’s shirt?”

Dean clutched at the material and started crying again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my depressing stories :)) No seriously, thank you, I hope you liked it!  
> Comments and kudos are, as always, very appreciated  
> <3


End file.
